


Control

by petite-neko (petiteneko)



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: M/M, Smut, Swearing, Violence, all the gem play, gem play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-02 07:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petiteneko/pseuds/petite-neko
Summary: He always wondered what Ghirahim would look like when he was begging for more.





	Control

Ghirahim tended to be the one to lead on their more intimate activities. And it wasn’t as if he was really opposed to it. In fact it was almost fitting considering their interactions when they had first met and still had been enemies. Ghirahim had always been the one instigating everything, and he had just been the one reacting.

(And now when he reacted – oh! He reacted.)

Perhaps he shouldn’t have reacted – or even been in the _position_ to react. Should he even be doing this? With Ghirahim? His former enemy? The one who had almost successfully left the world under the rule of a demon tyrant?

The question was raised many a time in his head.

Probably this wasn’t healthy. Probably this wasn’t normal. And it most definitely wasn’t moral.

But deep down, he knew this was what _felt right._

Ever since the beginning, something had changed him from his peers and friends. Was it the weight of his tasks? Was it the things that he had to do?

Was it Ghirahim?

Every time they united, he came out with more bruises from Ghirahim’s sadism than affectionate marks.

(But really – could one absolutely say that Ghirahim _was_ affectionate?)

He never felt them though – too blinded by the sheer passion that their copulation gave him.

(Ghirahim always knew just where to bite, where to scratch, and where to thrust into.)

Well there were some nights, however, but they still left him begging – _pleading¬_ – for more.

(And _how_ Ghirahim loved to wait until he was almost in tears, _needing_ the release that the demon lord could only give.)

And certainly, Zelda would never have treated him like this, she would have loved him, comforted him, and coddled him.

(Did he _really_ need coddling though?)

However, their relationship wasn’t entirely based on lust and carnal desires.

(Granted, that’s how it started, but it was definitely much more than that now.)

And he knew that he wasn’t the only one feeling warmth in a place other than his loins.

(The way Ghirahim sat with him during meals, the gauze and salves left after a particularly rough night…)

So really? Was this _really_ wrong? Was it honestly causing any sort of harm?

(Perhaps, he could have been helping Zelda settle on the surface, but there was Groose.)

Couldn’t he be selfish for once?

(He loved how selfish Ghirahim made him, especially in bed.)

Although being selfless was quite fun as well…

.+++.

Doing this – it was dangerous. But that did not daunt him. Just being in Ghirahim’s presence was dangerous in itself. As was being in the same bed as him, relinquishing his body completely to him…

_Focus Link. Focus._

He steadied his stance, tightened his grip on his sword.

“Your reasoning behind this escapes me Sky Child… For an ordinary sword is no match for me in this form. Even just my arms is daring as it is. Just what is it that ticks that mind of yours?”

A smirk turned up his lips, and he charged at Ghirahim. “Let’s just say, I felt like experimenting a little~!”

But of course, his sword was grasped once more between those strong fingertips.

_No. Not now. Save that thought for later._

Much to Ghirahim’s surprise, Link relinquished the blade and pushed in close.

“I already know your weakness in this form… and I must say, it has certainly piqued my interest~” His voice was no longer hiding that sultry tone to it.

He could see as confusion quickly turned into understanding in Ghirahim’s expression, and the demon lord took a step back. He dropped the sword, moving his hand to cover the diamond on his chest – but it was too late.

“It is obviously the only part of you that can feel~” His fingers danced over the red gem. Oh~ “Was that a _moan?_ ”

“Y-You _liar!_ ”

“Oh come now, is having sex any different than fighting? Not to mention I said I just wanted to meet you in your final form with a _sword_ in hand.”

It seemed Ghirahim was a bit too preoccupied in whimpering and moaning to even form a response.

Link moved them against a wall, so in the event that Ghirahim legs gave out in pleasure, it wouldn’t cause too much of a hiccup.

(Because, really, this was quite dangerous. And Link didn’t want to risk losing control. Because losing control, meant that Ghirahim would gain it. Oh, and the result would not be very pretty. Especially if he didn’t get what he wanted first.)

The surface beneath his fingers began to warm up and glow. Ghirahim’s head was tilted back, his eyes closed, and his mouth singing out those lovely, lovely sounds.

The once-hero drunk in the sight. He took in the clenched fists at his side. The trembling arms. _Still_ – Ghirahim was holding himself back.

Well he would need to do something about that.

His fingers traced the metal around the jewel teasingly, slowly sliding in towards the center. It was getting warmer. It was hot even. When there was no response (other than more cries and moans) from Ghirahim, he lowered his head and tentatively his tongue slide out, slowly sliding up the crystal’s surface.

The cry that escaped him was suscitating.

But not enough. He pressed harder. Even scratched gently at it. He wanted Ghirahim to cling to him. Press him closer. Tell him, in that silent way, to not stop. He pulled Ghirahim closer, away from the wall so he _had_ to stand. His fingers teasing around the edges once more while his tongue continued to slide up the crystal. He forced his own moan back – for he could not get Ghirahim to truly open up to him if he displayed a moment’s weakness. He could feel the strong, tall frame trembling in need. Those moans shortening and the cries getting louder. He even heard his own name mixed in there a few times. And then – he heard it.

That _whimper._

And from there, everything fell into place.

Those strong fingers gripped at his neck and hair, pulling him close. That overpowering embrace clinging to him.

It didn’t last long, however.

That moment soon had _him_ against the wall, that black skin fading from most of Ghirahim’s body. His white hair falling into place.

“ _Once I have my way with you, you are going to regret doing that Sky Child._ ” He hissed out.

Because in that moment he had looked up at Ghirahim. He had stopped.

And it gave the demon lord a chance to strike.

His pants were torn from his body, – he had shuddered from the cold air hitting his erection – his legs lifted up, his knees pressed up next to his head. Ghirahim didn’t bother preparing him before he plunged right in.

(As an afterthought, it _really_ was a smart idea he prepped beforehand. He knew that even if he had succeeded in his little experiment, he wouldn’t be able to last forever, and getting Ghirahim all hot and bothered without any means to release would not end well. )

Link clung onto any body part of Ghirahim’s that was in reach. For if it weren’t for the weight of Ghirahim’s body slamming into him, and the bruising grip on his hip and thigh, he would have fallen from the wall he was propped against.

When Ghirahim hit that spot he cried out in pleasure, his toes curling. Again and again the demon lord pounded into that spot, driving sheer rapture through his body.

Screams left his throat, and he knew that if it weren’t for Ghirahim’s own need, it would have been worn raw.

He felt Ghirahim finish inside of him, his hips erratic and violent, and he had to wrap his leg around him to stop himself from falling, and using the opposite hand to wrap around his shoulder.

He whimpered though, and when his hand moved to touch his still-hard cock, he was stopped by piercing brown eyes.

“ **No.** ”

The command left him trembling. It only turned him on more.

“Pl-Please…” He begged.

“I _did_ say you were going to regret it, didn’t I?”

Well. _Shit..._


End file.
